Adverse Events, page 10
The reporters’ shouted questions bounced off the woman’s retreating back. Kate was too breathless to bother. A hurricane of butterflies beat against her ribs. Then a wave of nausea washed over the excitement. What if they’d found Emily’s body? She scooped up her bag and picked her way around television cameras and cables until she reached the front doors.
“Where’s Bennett going?” she heard someone say as she pushed her way out into the bright sunshine. She walked far enough away from the door that no one could eavesdrop, but stayed close enough to see through the glass in case the conference suddenly started. She flipped through her notebook pages until she found the one she was looking for and pulled out her phone.
The butterflies felt like angry hornets swarming in her chest as she listened to it ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, David. This is Kate Bennett with the Gazette. I’m sorry to bother you. Are you busy?”
Emily Gibson’s boyfriend snorted into the phone, an angry sound that made Kate think of a bull about to charge.
“No. No, I’m not. It’s a little hard to be busy when all I can think about is Emily and what Newhouse did to her. There’s no way the police can still believe she drowned. Not with everything that’s happened in the last few days.”
Kate hesitated. She didn’t think Johnson believed Emily drowned, but she didn’t want to give false hope, either.
“I know,” she finally said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you a heads up on that story. It came in late and I was just scrambling to get it written up before deadline.”
“It’s fine. I know you’ve got your own stuff to deal with. How’s your head, by the way?”
“Better, thanks.” The truth was, she still felt a little off kilter, like she’d just spent a day at sea and hadn’t gotten her balance back. “Listen, I’m down here at the police station. They were supposed to have a news conference 20 minutes ago. But they’ve delayed it and won’t tell us what’s going on. I thought you might have heard something.”
On the other end of the line, David Knowles caught his breath. Kate winced. Guilt pinched her conscience. She was trying to get an angle on a story, but any definitive news about the missing researcher would probably bring nothing but grief to her family. It didn’t matter whether Newhouse had killed her or she’d drowned. The end result was the same.
“Like what?” he asked, his voice thin. “Do you think they found her?”
Kate swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I don’t know. That’s the first thing I thought of. But if you haven’t heard anything, that’s probably not it. They would definitely call Emily’s mom before they made any public announcement. If she hasn’t called you, then…”
Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t exactly sure how to finish the sentence. Then there’s still hope? But she doubted if David really believed Emily was still alive.
“I haven’t heard from her,” he murmured. “But I’ll give her a call. I won’t say anything about what you told me. I’ll just see how she’s doing. I was going to call her today anyway. I just hadn’t worked my way up to it.”
Kate tried to read between the lines. They had seemed pretty close when she’d interviewed them together after Emily disappeared. She settled on a vague question he could easily dismiss if he didn’t want to be specific.
“Is something wrong?”
A heavy sigh blew over the phone’s speaker. “No. I mean, not really. It’s just been a bit awkward since…. well, you know, those photos. I was so mad. And I don’t think she knew what to say.”
“I’m sure she was shocked.” Kate tried to imagine how her father would react if he’d learned in such a public was that she’d been sleeping with her boss.
“Yeah, and disappointed. And sorry for me, which didn’t exactly make it easier, you know?”
“I can imagine,” Kate murmured sympathetically.
“I loved her so much,” David said, his voice breaking. “How could she do that to me?”
Suddenly, Kate wanted to get off the phone as fast as she could. She had no idea what to say to this man who’d had his heart and pride ripped to shreds while the whole world watched.
“I’m so sorry, David.”
“Me, too,” he said, bitterness making his sorrow razor sharp. “I would give anything to have one last conversation with her.”
Kate frowned. It seemed like an odd thing to say, but he probably just meant that he had so many unanswered questions he wanted to ask.
“I think most people who’ve lost someone they love feel that way,” she said, trying not to think of her teenage self filling page after page of her journal with questions she wished she could ask her mom.
“Yeah…”
“Listen, I should probably go. Hang in there.”
“Will you let me know what they say?”
Kate hesitated. She didn’t have time to give a personal report to everyone who wanted one. But she knew how desperately David and Emily’s mom wanted answers.
“Sure, I’ll text you. I won’t have time for much detail because I have to write my story fast, but I’ll let you know the basics.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
After she hung up, Kate continued staring at the phone, thinking about what David had said. One last conversation. What would he say? Emily had betrayed him and used him. Played him for a fool. And now he would spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t disappeared. No wonder his emotions ping-ponged between sorrow and seething.
She sent a text to the copy desk editor, letting her know not to expect the story for a while but to hold a front-page spot. Next, she texted photographer Doug Cowel to let him know he might want to head her way. Then she went back inside to wait.
Another hour passed before the DA’s press secretary walked back to the microphone. Reporters scrambled to their feet while cameramen frantically waved at her to wait until they could get their feeds hooked up.
“No rush, no rush,” she said, holding up her hand as though to calm the suddenly roiling sea of journalists. “We’ll be getting started in about five minutes. That should give you time to get all set up.”
Excitement tingled up Kate’s arms as she flipped her notebook open to a fresh page. She gripped it so tightly it bowed slightly.
Almost exactly five minutes later, the door at the back of the room swung open again and a long line of people filed in. Kate had expected Johnson to lead the pack, but District Attorney Nathan Mahoney made his way toward the podium first. Kate scanned the line of other officials until she found Johnson. His lips pressed together in a grim line, but something about his eyes suggested satisfaction. He held her gaze for a few moments and nodded just slightly. Not enough that anyone but her would notice.
Her heart beat faster with anticipation.
“Good morning,” Mahoney said as he adjusted the microphone closer to his mouth. “I guess it’s almost afternoon now. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. But as you know, there were some unexpected developments this morning, and they have substantially changed this case.”
Camera shutters clicked as he paused for effect. Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. District attorneys were as much politicians as they were lawyers. They knew better than anyone how to play to an audience.
“Today, I am filing first-degree murder charges against Dr. Aaron Newhouse.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open as a murmur rolled through the crowd.
“We already knew that Emily Gibson tried to persuade Dr. Newhouse to come clean about the failure of his vaccine. He refused. But we now have evidence that he threatened to harm her if she tried to go public with what she knew.”
Another pause. Kate scribbled frantically. The sudden surge in her pulse made her head throb.
“It is our belief that he did just that,” the district attorney continued. “We still don’t know what happened to Emily Gibson, but we believe Dr. Newhouse can shed some light on that, and we hope he will do so quickly.”
Kate caught Johnson’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. Kate tapped her pen on her notebook. What would they offer Newhouse to confess to Emily’s murder? First degree murder would be hard to prove when the defense would likely argue she had drowned.
When Mahoney opened for questions, Kate shot her hand in the air and fixed him with her best I’ll-remember-this-at-campaign-time stare.
“Ms. Bennett.” he said, nodding her way.
“Is Dr. Newhouse cooperating with the investigation?”
“Cooperating?” Mahoney chuckled. “I can’t say that he is cooperating at the moment. But I hope he will reconsider his position sooner rather than later.”
The other reporters peppered him with questions related to the information she already had in this morning’s story. She listened distractedly to make sure she didn’t miss any fresh detail. How likely was Newhouse to give in? Based on his arrogance, she bet he’d fight tooth and nail to protect what remained of his reputation.
Forty-five minutes later, Kate turned onto Broadway and headed back to the newspaper office. She pulled out her phone and called Johnson. When he didn’t answer, she counted to five and dialed again. Voicemail. Another five count, more ringing. He finally picked up on her fourth try.
“Kate, what gives? Are you trying to get me fired or something?” His exasperated sigh tickled her ear.
“There’s no way he’s going to confess.”
Johnson paused so long she thought he’d hung up.
“Hello?”
“I’m here. I don’t know if he’ll confess. If he doesn’t, he’s looking at a very long court battle.”
“Mahoney is up for re-election in two years. Is this his poster case? Even if he doesn’t win, he can at least say he gave it everything he had.”
Johnson laughed. “You’re such a cynic. Don’t you think the district attorney wants justice for a young woman who tried to do the right thing?”
Kate snorted. “Sure, especially if it sounds good in campaign ads. But seriously, murder one’s going to be really hard to prove. Newhouse could end up walking away scot free.”
She cursed the tremor in her voice and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“Kate, I promise you I will do everything I can to make sure Newhouse pays for what he’s done. To Emily Gibson and to you.”
She swallowed and blinked back tears.
“I just don’t want to see one more murderer go unpunished,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I know, Kate. I know.”
Chapter 10
Kate spent the rest of Saturday and all Sunday holed up in her apartment. She’d postponed her date with Brian until Tuesday. Her head still ached, and she was nursing an even more debilitating case of anxiety over Newhouse. In her fitful dreams, he walked out of the Galveston County Courthouse a free man, fixing her with a smug smirk as he waltzed by the reporters gathered to witness his victory over justice. Once, the dream had morphed into a nightmare. She was locked in his office, frantically searching for a way out as he came toward her, a syringe in his hand.
By Monday morning, her head had stopped pounding, but her mood hadn’t lifted.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Hunter Lewis raised an eyebrow over his “World’s Best Dad” coffee cup when she stalked into the newsroom. “Doesn’t look like your weekend of rest did you any good at all.”
She glared as she swiped a copy of the day’s paper off a table and stomped to her desk. Lewis followed at a distance.
“Do you need another day off? Did you get in to see a doctor?”
Kate tried to smooth out her scowl to ease his own worried frown.
“I’m fine. Really. Just stressing about this case. I do not want Newhouse to get a pass.”
Lewis nodded. “Mahoney is taking a gamble on the charges. But he’s not interested in losing a big case right before his next election, so he must think it’s a risk worth taking.”
“He’ll never get a conviction as long as Newhouse’s lawyer can convince a jury Emily might have drowned. He won’t even have to fight the murder charges. All he has to say is, ‘prove there even was a murder!’”
Before Lewis could respond, the newsroom door scraped open and Delilah Peters swept in, followed closely by Ben Denison.
“Heads up, kiddo,” Denison said. “Judge held a bail hearing for Newhouse on the sly first thing this morning. Looks like he’s going to be bonding out in a few hours.”
“What?!” Kate jumped out of her chair, nearly knocking it over. “How could he do that? The hearing wasn’t scheduled until this afternoon!”
“Castleman called in a favor. I guess Newhouse didn’t like his accommodations very much.”
“So they’re just going to let him go?”
“My source told me he’s getting fitted with an ankle monitor. Home confinement. Mahoney got that concession, at least. He’d better hope the pressure of being locked up at home, as pleasant as I’m sure that is for a doctor, will encourage Newhouse to spill his guts.”
“Unbelievable.” Kate’s anxiety boiled over into seething anger. The adrenaline coursing through her body made her tremble.
“You’d better double check that bit about the ankle monitor. I didn’t get it official.”
Kate spent the next 30 minutes trying to get Mahoney on the phone. When he finally answered, he sounded almost as aggravated as she felt. After stipulating they were off the record, he spewed a string of profanities about the judge and his lack of judiciousness.
“On the record?” Kate finally asked when the tirade slowed.
“On the record, while I’m certainly disappointed by this turn of events, I respect the judge’s decision. My office is already hard at work on this case, and we will be ready for a trial as soon as the judge sets a date. But I am still hopeful Dr. Newhouse will do the right thing and tell us what happened to Emily Gibson. Her family deserves the answers that only he can provide.”
Kate cringed as she thought of Emily’s mother. The poor woman had to know by now her only child would not be coming back to her perfectly tidied apartment, no matter how long she waited. Her only hope now was to find out what had happened to her.
Kate thanked Mahoney and hung up. She needed to call Mrs. Gibson to get a comment, but she dreaded dialing in to the woman’s anguish. Other people’s sorrow always threatened to bore into the well of mourning she kept carefully buried year after year.
Reluctantly, she tapped the numbers on her phone.
“Hello?” The warbling, watery voice almost made Kate hang up.
“Mrs. Gibson? This is Kate Bennett, with the Gazette.”
“Oh, I saw the area code and thought it might be someone from the police department calling with news.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t have any news about Emily. But Aaron Newhouse is getting out of jail this morning. The judge set his bail at $5 million, and of course he didn’t have any trouble meeting that.”
Mrs. Gibson sniffed. Kate groaned silently.
“I still can’t believe he did something to Emily,” the distraught mother whispered. “But I can’t believe any of this. It’s just like a nightmare that’s happening to someone else.”
“Emily never said anything about him making threats or about problems with the vaccine trial?”
“No. She’d seemed more stressed the last month or so. But I just chalked it up to her being focused on the project. She never seemed to have time to talk, until just a few days before she disappeared. She called me and apologized for being so distant. She told me she missed me and she’d see me soon. But she never hinted that she feared for her life.”
Mrs. Gibson ended with a hiccup and a soft sob. Kate tried to swallow down the lump that sprang to life in her own throat.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, pausing to weigh her next question. “If you could speak to Aaron Newhouse, what would you say?”
“Oh! I don’t, I mean, I hadn’t thought…” She sniffed a few more times before continuing. “I guess I would say, if you know anything about what happened to Emily, please, please tell us. I just want to know what happened to my baby!”
Kate wiped the corners of her eyes as Emily’s mom sobbed on the other end of the line. The phone suddenly felt like it weighed 10 pounds. It took all her effort to keep it pressed to her ear.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” Mrs. Gibson said after what felt to Kate like an eternity. “I know you have better things to do than sit here and listen to me cry.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I called to bother you.”
“Oh, honey, I know you’re just doing your job. I appreciate you caring so much about what happened to Emily. If you keep writing about it, maybe we’ll get some answers in the end.”
“I hope so. I really do.” Kate cleared her throat. “I’d better let you go now. But if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
After she hung up, she laid her head down on her desk. She counted to twenty as she stuffed the agony of loss and helplessness back into the emotional lockbox where she kept them safely contained most of the time.
“Bennett!” She jumped as Kenton Mattingly barked her name from across the room. “That Gibson’s mom you were talking to?”
She nodded.
“Good. I need a story to post within the hour. Get cracking!”
Kate nodded again and suppressed a sigh.
Forty-five minutes later, she turned in her story, scooped up her car keys, and headed for the door. The soft spring breeze lifted her hair off her neck and caressed some of the tension out of her shoulders. The grey skies that had added to the weekend’s oppressiveness had lifted. Bright sunshine washed everything in a hopeful hue. Vibrant pink and white flowers covered the azalea bushes that lined the median on Broadway. In spite of herself, Kate smiled.
She headed downtown to her favorite coffee shop. Latte for lunch seemed like a great idea. Coffee in hand, she drove over to City Hall and picked up the packet of information for Thursday’s council meeting. Then she made her way to the seawall and drove slowly back to the newspaper. The novelty of coastal living hadn’t worn off after more than a year. She still marveled that she could spend her lunch hour watching the waves roll over the beach while pelicans made kamikaze plunges into the gulf.
